Peter's POV
by Lara-Van
Summary: As Peter approached her desk, she looked at him with a pair of electrifying blue eyes. There was something forceful in her gaze that made him think that maybe she wasn't out of her depth at all." Oneshot anthology, companion to WTRL. Title says it all
1. First Sight

**A Note From Lara:** Okay, I promised this a long time ago to some of you, but here I am finally getting around to it. This is a sort of companion to my star, Welcome to Real Life, and it's sort of showing Peter's perspective on the relationship between Peter and Dianne and the altered events of S1. If you haven't read WTRL, you're gonna be really confused. Thank you guys for making an OC fic, of all things, the most reviewed, most popular fic I've ever written. You're amazing!

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*First Sight*

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The first thing Peter noticed when he walked into the room was that Prissy Gordon had finally gone on maternity leave, if the temp sitting in her usual desk was anything to judge by.

The second thing he noticed was the temp herself. The woman looked about his age, and she was clearly out of her depth. Her light brown hair pulled up in what had once been a neat ponytail, but several wisps had escaped and were straggling down past her face as she juggled telephone calls. She was pretty, but in a rough-cut sort of way, with nothing that would be particularly striking about her to most people.

However, as Peter approached her desk, she looked at him with a pair of electrifying blue eyes and he had to work to avoid being completely stopped in his tracks. There was something forceful in her gaze that made him think that maybe she wasn't out of her depth after all.

He stepped up to the desk. "Hey, is my brother in?" he asked.

"Your brother? I'm really new here, so...?"

Peter laughed. "You really _must_ be new," he exclaimed. "I'm Peter Petrelli."

"Peter--? Oh!" Those blue eyes widened, and she looked a bit mortified. "You're Nathan Petrelli's brother? Aw crap, sorry, I'll let him know you're here." She searched around the desk, presumably looking for the sheet that listed the extension codes for the various VIPs within the campaign office. On impulse, Peter placed his hand over hers to stop her search. There was no need for her to go out of her way just for him.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it, I'll just go on in. It's not like I need some formal announcement. Besides, I go barging in there practically every day anyway," he explained.

She took a deep breath, a hint of relief showing on her face. "Well then, Mr. Petrelli--" she began.

Peter recoiled from being addressed like that. That was Nathan, or his father. Mr. Petrelli wasn't a name he had ever felt comfortable having applied to him. "Call me Peter," he insisted.

She looked taken aback by the familiarity. He couldn't blame her; with some of the people she probably had to deal with on a daily basis, being on first-name basis with anybody in the office setting probably felt very strange. "Alright then... Peter," she said, stumbling a little over the name, "I guess I'll see you around here sometime."

He suddenly realized that he didn't even know her name. "Yeah, probably, Miss--?"

"Morton. Dianne Morton." She smiled for the first time in their brief conversation, and the expression softened the sharp angles of her face.

Peter smiled back. "Nice to meet you, Dianne," he said. Then he continued into Nathan's office before he had the opportunity to do or say anything idiotic. He slumped down in a chair opposite his brother. It was several seconds before Nathan looked up from his paperwork to acknowledge him.

"Hey Pete," he said distractedly. "Good to see you, man."

"Yeah. So, Prissy finally went on maternity leave, huh?"

Nathan nodded. "Almost had to pry her out of her desk to get her to go." He seemed, for once, to understand the true meaning behind the seemingly innocuous question. "Her replacement's pretty cute, though."

In an attempt to brush off Nathan's sudden, surprising insight, Peter laughed. "You're married, man. Behave."

The elder Petrelli smirked. "I'm not the one she should be worried about!" he said, before turning back to his papers.

They spent a few minutes chatting before leaving to go to an early lunch together, and Peter was glad for the distraction from the thoughts Nathan's insinuation had stirred up in his mind. No, he was definitely in love with Simone. So he found Nathan's new secretary interesting. What was the harm in that? He could have female friends without having feelings for them!

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**Next Time: Peter finds out that his "new friend" is also his new neighbor!**


	2. Unexpected Meeting

**A Note From Lara:** Alright, here's my second little moment on the road to all the adorable PetAnne... um... adorableness.... yeah, that kinda got away from me. And if you got that reference, you get a giant virtual cake, in any flavor your like, up to and including German chocolate.

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*Unexpected Meeting*

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Peter opened his eyes and groaned, running his hands over his face in mild irritation. From the sounds blasting from the next-door apartment, his neighbor, Spens, had gotten very, very drunk again. That was usually the only time he cranked the volume on his stereo up this high. For a few minutes, Peter attempted to get back to sleep by covering his head with a spare pillow, but it didn't really help. Finally, he gave up and went to the kitchen in search of earplugs or caffeine, whichever he could find first.

As he was pouring himself a cup of coffee, he heard a shout in the hall.

"Look, it's incredibly easy you brainless moron!" a woman was saying loudly. "You just find the little knob that says 'volume' and turn it to the left. A _lot_ to the left. Is that really too much to ask?"

Then Spens's voice echoed through the hallway, "Get. Out. Of. My. Apartment!"

The woman- whose voice was vaguely familiar, though he couldn't quite place it- said something else, something he couldn't quite hear. Then Spens replied, in a low, growling voice that Peter knew from experience meant trouble. All at once, he roared wordlessly and there was a loud thump.

Peter opened his door cautiously, and to his horror saw that Spens had the woman pinned against the wall, throttling her. Without so much as pausing, he threw himself across the hall and seized the other man by the shoulder. "Hey!" he shouted. "Leave her alone!" Enraged past the point of reason, Spens whirled to face him and seized him by the shoulders, kicking at his shins as he attempted to throw him to the ground. Peter was alarmed to realize that his normally pacifistic neighbor was extremely strong.

Quite suddenly, Spens was wrenched forcibly away from him. He stared, completely amazed, as the girl he had rushed out here to "rescue" slammed her knuckles into Spens's chest, twisted his arm up behind him, and slammed him against the ground with enough force to visibly knock the wind out of him. She planted her knee in the small of his back to keep him pinned. Then, apparently satisfied with her work, she looked up.

"Peter?" she gasped.

He was equally amazed to see the pretty receptionist. "Dianne?" It felt totally surreal, seeing her so unexpectedly, although he had no idea quite why that would be so. After all, this was New York City. Everyone ran into each other sooner or later. This just felt a little too coincidental, though. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I just moved in downstairs," she explained. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I live in the apartment across the hall. Um, how did you... that was... amazing." He gestured at the whimpering man on the floor. "I guess you didn't exactly need rescuing, did you?"

She shrugged, rising to her feet but making sure to keep her heel firmly planted in Spens's back. "I can usually take pretty good care of myself," she said. It was the understatement of the year, as far as Peter was concerned. "I studied martial arts from a master. But it's always nice to have some help. So... thanks."

"Anytime," he said. "So how'd you get on Spens's bad side so fast?"

Dianne sighed. "I asked him to turn down his music. He said no, I got stubborn, he got physical."

"Boy, you've got guts," Peter muttered. "Most people in this building just buy earplugs."

She gave him an ironic look, her blue eyes sparkling in a very disconcerting way. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people," she said. "And I try not to let people push me around, so... Just tell me that most New Yorkers react better to liquor than this guy." She pointed at Spens.

"Well, I can't speak for the nutballs in Queens," he joked, "But I promise you that everybody else in Manhattan is perfectly well-mannered when their inebriated. So, I take it you're new to the city?"

She nodded. "Pretty much. I lived for the past nine years in Kansas."

Kansas, huh? Well that explained the Midwestern accent. "Well, if you want, I can show you around," Peter offered. Then he wondered what had compelled him to do so. "Show you the sights, give you a map of the L, that kind of stuff."

Dianne grinned. "Thanks. I grew up in Chicago, but the Big Apple is definitely... well... bigger." Peter laughed, but suddenly, Spens groaned, and the humorous look on her face changed to one of mild horror. "Oh crap!" she exclaimed. "Sorry man, I didn't mean to leave you down there! Look, will you promise to turn down your music?"

"Yes, yes, just lemme up!" Spens exclaimed.

She removed her foot from the small of his back and he leaped to his feet and scurried away into the apartment. Seconds later, the screaming died away; he had turned off his music completely. Dianne glanced at the door of Spens's apartment and smiled in satisfaction. "Well, that's one problem solved," she said, dusting off her hands. "I'll see you later."

It wasn't really a question, but Peter nodded anyway. She walked away down the stairs and Peter watched her until she was out of sight. Then he went back into his apartment to drink his coffee and ponder the enigma that was Dianne Morten.


End file.
